City of the Renowned
by Tzadikim
Summary: A Shadowhunter saw their life in four different colors. Based off the nursery rhyme by Cassandra Clare. For TM.


**AN: Taking part in another prompt challenge, but for TMI. I had a lot of fun writing this. Major thanks goes out to Drift for reading it over. **

**1. if you try to wrestle time, you'll always lose.**

**2. buildings **

**3. was this sort of thing wrong?**

**4. (s)he wears scars with pride.**

**This is very nonlinear.**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: Last time I checked I am sarcastic, and fun-sized. Nice try, but I know that I'm not Cassandra Clare. I own the OCs.

**Title**: City of the Renowned

**Word Count: **2K

**Summary**: A Shadowhunter saw their life in four different colors. Based off the nursery rhyme by Cassandra Clare. For TM.

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_Black for hunting through the night_

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The buildings of New York speared the sky without mercy on that storm-filled night. Alleyways were cloaked with dripping shadows, and the glossy streetlights ripped through the darkness. The City That Never Sleeps was ghostly lit from the tops of structures to homely apartments. The rain came down thickly, like heaven emptying their rivers in Eden. Everything was grey, dark blue, and the glistening reflections of the water.

A lean figure in black stood and watched with mild disdain from a rooftop. The moon hung low in the sky, it's dull light covered by heavy clouds. Darkness walked through the streets, making the lights shine like fallen stars. Few people were out; most were in their homes and into the land of dreams and nonsense.

The Shadowhunter drew his stele out and marked himself with the rune that could enhance his night vision. Then blinking rapidly at the sudden clarity, he eyed a certain alley that was across from him. To the mundane eye it was nothing special; abandoned, and with heavy bags of trash. To the Shadowhunter, he saw a feeding ground for demons. No streetlights were close enough to scare them off, the slanted roofs nearby blocked most of the sunlight during the day, so that made it a perfect place for a breeding ground.

There it was.

A sluggish creature moved inside the area. Dozens of small legs extended its fragmented claws. The scales were covered in blood and small injuries. It yawned, showing its fanged mouth, and went to go eat the dead body that it had dragged over. The Shadowhunter grinned, and then leapt down from the building silently.

The demon never noticed.

The Shadowhunter got his seraph blade out and whispered just one name only. The alley lit up with blue-white light, glowing and wavering. Then there was an only corrosive blood staining the brick wall.

Lightning crashed, illuminating that part of the city—and the demon and angel went to go home.

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_For death and sorrow, the color's white_

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_If you try to wrestle time, you'll always lose,_ that was what Hayden's father would always say. The small boy was clad in white—as for everyone else—when he saw his father's body burn into dust and ashes. His fair eyelashes blinked the sudden tears away.

Perhaps he shouldn't cry, because his father died like most would—die fighting against the forces of hell. His ashes would be used as a mortar to protect more people after his death. That should be a good thing. Right?

Hayden thought more of the phrase, how it failed to help his father when the vampire sunk his fangs too deep with an unquenchable thirst. He fought back the inevitable timing of death and still died from the blood lost. He looked at his father who was now wreathed in smoke and glowing embers. Ashes and sparks flew upwards to the heavens. Hayden's small piece of the world was a conundrum of snowy ash and raining fire.

Hayden remembered a strange fact from school. Mundanes wore black for mourning and white for weddings. Why was that? He wondered. Was it so they could fight the grief away? Did they wear white because they were sad that a part of their life was over?

For a boy barely of twelve, it made him feel very worldly to think of these questions.

Sadly, none of those questions mattered to the burning dead.

* * *

_Gold for a bride in her wedding gown_

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Miriam let the skirts of her golden wedding gown fall to the floor. The pale shade set off her dark red hair and the small spray of freckles over her nose. The bride-to-be observed her appearance in the mirror. Her hair was pulled up into curls and pinned into a bun; the cloth of her wedding gown came down in layers, covering the paler shade of her shoes; and small pearl accents were placed around her neck and arms.

"Red, white, and gold," Her fiancé murmured behind her. Her placed a scarred arm around her waist. "You look like fire."

Miriam eased and kissed the side of his face. "Let's hope that I don't burn the wedding down."

He traced an invisible pattern on her forearm that was where the runes would be. To Mundanes, it was shock that someone would be purposely disfigured on her wedding day. Yet Miriam, like the rest of the Nephilim, would wear her scars with pride. They showed her survival throughout the years, and now they will show the love of many more.

His arm left her waist and to her hand. Their fingers interlocked and they smiled at the thought of their shared future.

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_And red to call enchantment down_

* * *

The underground basement was cleared out except for a few tables and chairs. A lone light bulb hung from the ceiling, its flickering light spooking shadows. A frail girl with pale hair was tied up and thrown in the corner that was the farthest away from the light. Her face was pale and shaking. Her hair and shoes crusted with blood and dirt. The other captive, an older girl dressed in gear, was trying to untie the sailor-like knots.

"Don't worry, Kim," she said in a hushed voice. "I'll get us both out of here."

Kim watched her half-sister stayed so calm throughout this. The shaking girl made a note how this was another difference between them. Gabby was tall, limbs covered in muscles and scars, while Kim was shorter and bared only the forgotten childhood memories on her skin.

She was also a mundane. Her mundane mother married a Nephilim who already had a daughter who was training with the rest of her kind in their own country. It didn't take Miss Hastings some convincing that the Shadow World existed, because she could always see through their Glams. Kim could barely, but with much effort she could see the circle that was carved in the stone ground. Harsh lines broke through stone and emitted an eerie light, as if it was underwater. Marks were circling it, haunting both girls of an uncertain future.

Gabby already had a knot undone and was using the heel of her boot to finish the rest. Guilt was making her move faster; because it was thanks to her that the warlocks captured the both of them. She let her guard down and they both ended up in the basement.

The rope made a loud sound as the last few strands broke. Gabby and Kim froze, waiting to hear hurried footsteps from upstairs. It was still silent. _Thank the Angel_, Gabby thought.

She reached toward her sister quietly and then used the same technique to cut the ropes off. "See, Kim? We'll be fine."

The warlock behind her thought very differently.

Sharp talons tangled themselves into Gabby's curly hair. The tips scratched the skin of her skull, drawing blood. "Dearie," he crooned sweetly, tugging tighter. "We mustn't let you escape. It wouldn't be right."

Gabby hissed a few choice words in response.

The warlock tsk'ed. "Really? The manners you youth have." With the strength he inherited from his demonic father, he dragged the fighting girl over to the circle. Once she was inside, the warlock stepped out and drew some of his blood onto the glowing lines. An audible snap echoed and a ring of red fire followed the circle.

"Now you may be asking," he said calmly. "Is this sort of thing wrong? Why, yes. But in order to summon someone very important, we need your blood, Nephilim. We need to use that direct conduit to heaven."

Gabby stood up on non-shaking legs and glared at him. "My sister has no part of this. Let her go."

The warlock smiled with his yellow lips. He clapped. "Ah, the mundane that can see. Alas, because of that curse, she can see this. And I can't let that go to your Clave. Oh, no. It wouldn't be proper."

Kim stared at her sister with a fearful look. Fear was painted boldly on her face.

The warlock grinned again. "I'll be getting the ritual ready. Don't go anywhere." With ending that, he vanished into thin air.

Silence and a chocking fear dampened the small room. Gabby spoke first:

"What an idiot."

Kim looked up, startled. "G-gabby," she croaked. "What do you…"

The other girl reached down and grabbed a stele from her boot. The wand-like object seemed to possess its very own glow. "He forgot to check to see if I was armed." She knelt down and studied the runes that were carved on the floor. "Maybe I can break the circle and get us out."

"What if you can't?" The questions hung in the air.

Gabby shook her head. "By the Angel, I will get us home. I swear." With an uncertain hand, she prodded the edge of the circle with the stele. Pale, red circles vibrated in the air where it touched. Scowling, she slashed something on the floor only to see it fade away. The demonic energies were making it hard for it to work.

Panic was now taking place of the bravado and anger. It fluttered inside of her like a caged bird. Doubt crowded the edges of her thoughts. What if she couldn't get herself out? What if she couldn't get them both home? There just had to be something that could break the circle.

Gabby stared blankly at her hands, and a crazy idea was born. Like what the warlock said, her blood was a direct conduit to heaven, and there were some myths surrounding the blood of Nephilim. She curled and uncurled her bloodied fingers. A rune came to mind, something that so many of the denizens of the Shadow and Mundie World believed in—family.

Kneeing down, she slashed a cut on her palm with her stele. Blood welled up and dripped to the floor. She used her index finger to paint the Mark in scarlet. She willed her mind to stay only on the rune and concentrated on its power. She focused on meeting Kim for the first time, family dinners, holidays, and her friends…

Then there was a sound similar to shards breaking off from glass. The sound encircled Gabby and light grew even brighter. She shielded her eyes and a few seconds later it was over. The warlock had reappeared with a stunned look on his face. Gabby smiled victoriously as she crossed over the broken circle.

_No one hurts my family and gets away with it._


End file.
